I gave it away recently.I took a word I knew andgently set it into someone's openhand. I told him it was art and that I wouldnever be his, because even if someone elsecame upon me blonde or blasting I would not whitherin the sound cloud. my body would not crumble or dropoff too deep in dream water; where our oceans are raised highwhile we are under. I gave him a word I carried while not speakingI took it out of my pants and softly dropped it into his hands while I wastripping balls carrying in the new year. it would have been, it should have been((YES)!). at the tipping point where my glass falters and comes crashing fromthe table to the floor where we are in my mind, interstellar. moons comingup from our fingers, teeth crudely clashing in the ever present war.I wanted to come to you like that, eyes wide and parched. itwould have been all the universes colliding, consuminggreat gulps of moonjuice. the poet in my chest roarscompelled to expose our bodies in word andcatastrophe. as I come quietly in to eachmorning I have these brutal thoughts.

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